


When He Says Her Name

by adelalavellan



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: After Corypheus, Eventual Smut, F/M, Fluff, Happy, Love, Post-Ending, Pre-Trespasser, Relationship(s), Romance, The Space Between Cutscenes, Vacation, answered questions, the smut has arrived
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-10-06
Updated: 2015-10-14
Packaged: 2018-04-25 02:16:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 8,566
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4942879
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/adelalavellan/pseuds/adelalavellan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>With Corypheus defeated, Cullen and the Inquisitor finally have time to be alone together. They journey outside Skyhold to explore what their love looks like when the world isn't ending.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Beyond Skyhold

**Author's Note:**

> I've always believed that real love only gets better once the curtain closes on a happy "ending." 
> 
> This story follows our heroes through flashbacks and pillow talk to answer burning questions like, "Was Cullen a virgin when he met the Inquisitor?" "How did they really fall in love? (Between the cutscenes!)" and - most importantly - "How did he get that sexy scar???"
> 
> I hope you love these two as much as I do.

“The first time I traveled there, Lace told me the space had nothing but space. I thought you would _love_ that.”

Inquisitor Adela was perched on one corner of her commander’s massive desk, side-eyeing him with a mix of hope and nerves. She was never shy around Cullen, not anymore… unless she wanted something very, very badly.

Cullen turned from his bookshelf and caught her skittering gaze.

“You want to travel for weeks,” he stated, dryly. His eyebrows drew together in disapproval. “You want to use Inquisition mounts and supplies. You want to spend more than a month away from base, just so you and I can be alone in a desert?”

“Well… have I told you how big the moon looks there? And it’s not just pretty and quiet, we could collect rare herbs, see if there are any more dwarven artifacts…”

Adela trailed off as she watched Cullen’s stern expression shatter, his scar twitching upward in a lopsided smirk.

“Yes.”

“ _Yes?!_ ”

He closed the gap between them in a stride and trailed one gloved finger softly down her cheek. When it reached her chin, he tipped her face upward and pressed their smiles together.

Through the kiss, he mumbled, “I’ve waited _years_ to have you to myself. How soon can we leave?”

____________________________________________________________________________________________________________

It was glorious being on the road with him. They hadn’t traveled together since their dire journey in search of Sampson at the Shrine of Dumat. Even then, it had stirred her heart to ride out with the man she loved at her side, but the reason had been all wrong.

This was simple. Right. Defeating Corypheus had given them peace, and _time_.

Adela impetuously shook her copper curls, thrilled to feel a new breeze lifting them. Cullen glanced over from atop Rook, his retired warhorse.

“You’re so different outside Skyhold,” he mused. “I’ve seen you toss your head that way a hundred times out on the ramparts, but always as if you were clearing your thoughts. Here…”

“Here, I’m already clear!” she interrupted happily, laughing as she nudged her horse Revas closer to Rook’s side.

She stretched out a hand to her commander, grinning when he grasped it between his warm fingers. 

“You know I go to the ramparts to think,” Adela continued. “But now, there’s no crisis or chore waiting for me in the courtyard. The only thing I see ahead is you… and me… exploring something new together. Sharing wine as we talk over the sights of each day. Pitching our tent every night, just far enough from main camp that we can have complete privacy, be as loud as we want...”

She turned her head to hide a smile as Cullen’s spine went rigid and he scanned the nearest riders in their party to see if anyone had overheard.

 _Creators_ , she would never tire of how easy it was to make this man self-conscious when it came to her – never mind that he led a military force of thousands as naturally as breathing. She was his weak spot, and she adored it.

It meant, after all, that after more than a year as lovers, his expression still became almost reverent every time she dropped her robe and came naked to their bed. 

“You know we don’t have to pitch our own tents, Adi.” Cullen made a valiant effort to redirect the conversation. He was clearly concerned Leliana’s scouts were listening in. 

Adela turned back to him with a tender look. “I know,” she conceded. “But if we do it ourselves, it’s ten more minutes I can spend completely alone with you.”

The fine lines by Cullen’s eyes crinkled as he smiled at her, placated.

“And besides...” she added, “You’ve always pitched a tent for me so easily.”

Cullen’s face flamed pink. Somewhere back in Skyhold, Sera was cackling.

____________________________________________________________________________________________________________

That night, Cullen wrapped his arms around Adela as she nestled between his thighs. He, in turn, leaned back against a sturdy oak as they watched the campfire embers burning low. 

While their small entourage settled into sleep, they talked over plans for the rest of their vacation. 

At the moment, Adi was laughing at how Cullen could hardly bring himself to stop using words like “tour” and “expedition,” despite how adamantly he’d insisted they keep this trip free of any real work.

He’d never had anything like a vacation, after all. For two years, the Inquisition had given everything to bring down Corypheus. Before that, Cullen had struggled to maintain order in a city overrun by blood mages and crazed Templars. Before that, the Circle; before that, training with the Chantry; before that… home.

He’d traveled, yes, but never imagined choosing a destination just for pleasure’s sake. So many things were new, since Adi came... and so he tried his question again as he snuggled her closer to his chest. The movement, he noticed, put his mouth in the perfect position to nibble her earlobe. For the moment, he satisfied himself with whispering softly beside it.

“What I mean is… with two weeks of _vacation_ , what will we do to pass the time?”

Adela hummed low in her throat, then twisted her neck and shifted sideways so she could gaze into his eyes. Cullen spotted hints of the lust his voice somehow seemed to inspire in her, but she also kept to words… for now.

“There are still so many things I want to know about you,” she said softly. “Things there were never time for when the world was ending. And you’ll think them foolish, but they matter to me. I was hoping we could use this time to _learn_ each other.”

Cullen tipped his head forward and brushed his lips against the curves of her soft-brown vallaslin. “You are many things to me, but never foolish,” he murmured. Then his tone turned playful as he repeated one of their favorite jests. “So tell me, is there something on your mind?”

Adela laughed as easily as always. “Yes. One thing in particular, and I’ll tell you if you’ll tell me…” Cullen watched as a slight blush colored her cheeks. “I… I was wondering about the women you loved before me.”

Cullen’s happy sigh caught in his throat.

“But why – I mean, are you sure? Adela, I don’t know if this is…”

“ _Cullen_. Please? I want to understand everything about you. And this is part of you. It isn’t idle curiosity, or some urge to stoke a useless jealousy about your past. It’s just that… I know I wasn’t your first, and there are stories there. I want _all_ your stories.”

Outside the war room, he could never argue with her.

“Adi, I’ll tell you whatever you want. It’s just… we’re finally alone, without hundreds of acquaintances mere steps away, for only the third time since I’ve known you. Forgive me, love, if I’m hesitant to invite old ghosts to our campfire now. But you… it sounds like you’ve thought about this a great deal.”

“I have,” Adela answered. “You know how much words mean to me. Varric’s novels, the tales of my clan’s Keeper, the lullabies my mother used to sing. And I’ve always had this notion that people in your life are like books on a shelf.”

She smiled wryly, then continued. “Some you read for education, others for pleasure. Some are dry, some make you laugh, some change your life completely with what they hide between their pages. And when it comes to lovers… there are the ones you read once, quickly, and never return to. And then there are the ones you never forget, because certain lines speak straight to your heart.”

“I know I’m rambling. It’s just… by learning about them, I can learn about you.” 

Cullen knew when he was beat. Maker, he’d do anything to see this woman happy, so of course he’d spill his guts about the past if that’s all it took. He rubbed his neck, stalling for time.

Well, she’d promised to share if he did. Much as he wanted to growl at the mere thought of another man touching her, he _was_ curious where she’d learned that little trick with her tongue… and if anyone else held the rights to even a corner of her heart.

“As you wish, Adi. So… shall I begin at the beginning?”

Adela made a little noise of contentment, settling a warm but relatively chaste kiss of triumph on Cullen’s lips before turning back to the fire. She nestled her head against his shoulder in a way that sent protectiveness surging through his veins.

“That sounds perfect,” she said. “And please don’t spare the details.”


	2. She Smiled At Me

“Well...” Cullen paused. Trying to patch long-faded emotions into a coherent tale was harder than he’d imagined. “What is it Varric always says? ‘Once upon a time’ is the worst first sentence in history?”

“I’ll make him proud, then. My story begins, ‘She smiled at me.’”

“The day it happened, I was fifteen and finally moving past being a raw recruit. I’d been with the Chantry for almost two years at that point. I’d learned a fair amount of swordplay, some tactics, and more verses of the Chant of Light than any young man should _ever_ have to memorize.”

“Until that day, I’d been completely focused on my training. I wanted to make something of myself, and to have been granted the chance to be more than a farmer, to truly serve a greater cause… well, I worked harder than I should have, maybe, and didn’t make many friends for my efforts.”

“Some of the older boys, the ones who’d become more serious as they approached their final vows, saw a future officer in me. They guessed I’d become a comrade or even their superior one day, I suppose, and so they treated me with a respect I hadn’t earned.”

“But most boys my age were less dedicated, more reckless, and they found me far too dull to spend time with. They never bested me though – _never_ – on the practice field… perhaps that was part of the problem as well.”

“Anyway, that field is where it happened. It was a grey day, spitting rain, and I’d just sent a boy named William sprawling on his back in the mud. I reached out a hand to help him up, and that’s when I saw her watching me from across the courtyard.”

“She wore a soft green dress, and her hair fell in waves around her face. When our eyes met, she gave me this shy smile that seemed to light up the whole day… and _that_ was when Will jerked my arm and sent me facedown into the muck. By the time I’d wiped my eyes to see, she was gone.”

____________________________________________________________________________________________________________

“Oh, _Cullen_ ,” Adela breathed. “You see, this is working. I’m already a tiny bit more in love with you, just knowing you were that innocent once.”

“Once?” Cullen did nip her ear then, softly. “You, my lady Lavellan, know exactly what effect your smile had on me – still has on me – as a man grown.”

“That may be true, my lion,” Adela smiled as she teased him with his battle-name, “but I bet you blushed even redder when you were fifteen.”

____________________________________________________________________________________________________________

“Over the next week,” Cullen continued, “I learned the girl was new help in the kitchens. Her village had been through a bad time with a traveling apostate. Some neighbors were killed. When the Templars came for the mage, the girl’s parents asked that she be taken to our base as well.”

“And so she was. They put her to work in exchange for her guaranteed safety. There was a time, once, when such arrangements were common. When a Templar fortress was the safest place most people could imagine.” Cullen’s voice went bitter, then trailed off, and Adela let the silence stand. After a minute, he hugged her tightly and carried on.

“And she _was_ safe there – except for my fumbling attentions. Her name was Alice, she had freckles across her nose, and I instantly decided we would marry as soon as we were of age.”

“What can I say? She showed me kindness for no other reason than wanting to, and I was so much lonelier than I’d ever have admitted. I found almost daily excuses to stop by one of the kitchen windows and greet her. She’d meet me at the sill, give me a shy, ‘Hello, Cullen,’ and sometimes pass me a spare cookie or roll.”

“Wanting to give her something in return, I found reasons to slip outside the main gates. While I was out, I’d look for flowers – whatever grew wild, windblown as they might be – and bring them back for her. I’d leave them on that same sill, and watch from a distance to see her smile when she found them.”

“Alice was my first kiss. Not my first _love_ , not really, but my first glimpse at what love might look like, how it might begin. They say – Varric says, anyway – that you never forget your first of anything. He’s right about that.”

“It was the simplest kiss imaginable – just once – quick, timid, passed from her to me across that windowsill… but it still comes to mind sometimes, when I smell baking.”

____________________________________________________________________________________________________________

“But that’s not a proper ending!” Adela complained when Cullen’s voice dropped off. “Did you kiss again? Were you ever caught or scolded?”

“The ending was as abrupt as the beginning,” he said, solemnly. “One day I went to our window, and the head cook saw me lingering there, unsure. ‘She’s not here anymore, son,’ she told me. She was kind. She explained that Alice had been transferred to a larger fortress where more help was needed, and that was that. I never heard tell of her again.”

Adela stayed quiet for a bit, remembering the agony of being young and having little say in her own fate. She had shared a similar infatuation with a boy from another Clan, glimpsed across the dance circle at her second Arlathvenn… but that was a story for a different night. 

For the moment, the coals had nearly burned themselves out, and the air was growing cool. Adela caught up her cloak from where it lay among the great oak’s roots and used it to cover herself and Cullen. Hidden beneath the deep blue wool, she pivoted to face her soldier-turned-bard and cupped his dear, rugged face in her hands.

“I love you, Cullen. Thank you for the story. Tomorrow, it’ll be my turn. But for now… let’s celebrate the story _we’re_ living.”

She could barely see his face in the shadows, but heard his wry chuckle travel through the darkness. He stayed very still, surprisingly compliant as she undid his buckles, loosened her laces, and got them both bare below the waist. 

Her work finished, she came to a rest straddling his well-muscled thighs. The cloak still shielded their bodies from view as her arms twined around his neck, and she felt his growing need twitch between their stomachs. 

“Adela…” Cullen’s low rumble came from deep within his chest. She expected him to follow with an admonition, or a plea that they move to the privacy of their tent… but no.

“Adela,” he repeated, huskily. “We’ve both had enough of sadness. Come here.” And she knew the jest was coming, somehow, giggled a beat early with delighted surprise as he said words he’d _never_ have spoken in Skyhold. 

“It’s time we had a happy ending.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The next chapter will take the "eventual" out of the "eventual smut" tag. ;)


	3. I Want You To Watch

Their second night out, the small band camped beside a series of swift rapids. The falling water gave off a low, steady roar that dropped an aura of calm over the tents. Cullen and Adela wandered upstream and found their own place beside a wide, slow-moving bend in the river.

They were, incredibly, halfway to the Wastes already. It was hard to believe while surrounded by lush green ferns that gleamed under the setting sun.

Cullen watched Adela in frank appreciation as she fed an apple to Revas, her cream-colored Ranger from the Free Marches. Her hair was up today, in its usual braided mass, but the wind of their riding had pulled several strands free to coil about her neck and temples. He couldn’t help imagining how it would feel later. 

Later, with his hands buried in those deep red waves, her letting out a little moan of pleasure as he removed the pins one by one and pressed his fingers in circles on her sensitive scalp…

_Maker’s breath. What had she just said?_

“I said, _Cullen_ , that the enchantment on these horses works even better than we expected.” Adela winked at him as she selected a coarse-bristled brush from the tack box and began working dust from Revas’ coat.

“I knew Dorian wouldn’t steer us wrong,” she mused, “but the spell his magister friend Maevaris worked up could revolutionize travel in both war and peacetime.”

“I’ve made this trip before. With experienced riders, it still took us 17 days! But now… to be halfway across Orlais in just two… it changes everything.”

Cullen had also been impressed with their uncanny speed. “The most amazing part is how the landscape never seems to rush by,” he agreed. “I thought I would be dizzy the whole journey. But everything looks and even feels normal. Then I glance to one side, look back, and we’ve simply… _moved on_.”

Adela paused in her brushing, and tilted her head to one side as she always did when concentrating. 

“I have to say – and please don’t get cross with me, because you know there’s something to this – the freedom mages have in Tevinter _does_ lead to extraordinary innovation.”

“I know all the problems with their system, of _course_ I do,” she rushed to exclaim, clearly expecting Cullen to cut her off. “But no one in the Circles would have ever dreamed up a spell like this. And, while an elf mage might have thought of it, we would never have had the numbers in one place for the collaboration it must have called for.”

Cullen felt a familiar ache in his chest. After everything they’d been through, he still felt compelled to prove that he wasn’t a Templar any longer; that he’d never again see Adela or her fellow mages as an implicit threat.

She’d told him more than once that she knew this already. She swore his commitment to protecting the allied mages, his close friendship with Dorian – most of all, loving _her_ – had made his good intentions clear. Perhaps then, what he truly needed was to prove it to himself, to appease that dark corner of his memory, the one he didn’t like to visit.

“You know,” he found himself declaring, “I agree with you, though it might surprise you. This kind of wonder is what magic was meant for, I think. In the right hands, this spell is enormously helpful and hurts no one. I’m almost tempted to call it... beautiful.”

“ _You’re_ beautiful, Cullen Rutherford.” Adela laughed as she threw down the brush and came toward him. Just like that, his lingering sense of guilt vanished.

She smelled – just a bit – of horse, and Cullen found that almost unbearably sexy. Here was a woman who could command any subordinate to care for her mount, or care for it with magic, at that… and she _preferred_ to use her own hands.

She’d said once that she believed the best way to know a creature – animal or human – was through touch, that it offered a kind of communion deeper than words. Cullen, who’d so long been tongue-tied in her presence, knew it was no coincidence she’d shared that thought soon after their first kiss.

“And so,” Adela spoke lightly, dissolving his reverie, “another night, another tale. Are you still up for my game of bedtime stories?” 

“Of course.” He smirked at her. “Because tonight is your turn, after all.”

Just then, with the perfect timing of a spy accustomed to observing others, one of Leliana’s scout appeared with two bowls of hot stew and a loaf of bread fresh from the coals.

“Sorry for the interruption, Your Grace, Commander.” She handed them each a dish, then detached a wine skein from her belt. “Our cook thought you might appreciate having some of the Ferelden red he didn’t use in the stew.”

“Bless that man,” Cullen said, emphatically. “Are you all well-settled for the night?”

“Yes, Commander.” The scout’s smile was brief, but genuine. “No burden of a side mission, we’re riding on magical horses, and you even made sure the best camp cook in all the Inquisition forces came along. This is as much a vacation for us as it is for… _well then_ – if that’ll be all?”

Adela stifled a giggle. “Yes, thank you, Brenna,” she managed. “Have a good rest.”

Ostensibly, the purpose of this small “expedition” was to change the scout guard currently maintaining a presence at Cove Camp. Even as relatively comfortable as that camp was compared to other sites they'd since abandoned across the Hissing Wastes, Adela had settled on a policy of troop rotation every three months. Any longer was simply too much time spent among the dunes, even if it did eat up resources to shuttle scouts back and forth from the Frostbacks.

Cullen knew for a fact how much the men and women stationed there appreciated the kindness, and he suspected it was the reason they were all tactfully pretending not to know this trip was less-than-official for the Inquisitor and her adviser.

As Brenna’s steps faded into the growing shadows, Cullen and Adela exchanged a sheepish look. “Well,” he murmured, “at least they’re grateful, if a bit too perceptive.”

“We would expect no less from our Spymaster’s finest,” Adela declared in ringing tones. Then, in a lower voice, she added, “And this stew really is _delicious_.”

____________________________________________________________________________________________________________

After they’d eaten and rinsed their bowls in the stream, Adela suggested a bath. “It’s so warm this far west,” she said, stacking the dishes on the shore. “And clearly, the group is aware we want our privacy.”

“As my lady wishes,” Cullen agreed, all chivalry. He disrobed quickly, waiting patiently while she removed her clothes and hung them tidily over a branch. Then – quick as thought – he _rushed_ toward her, catching her completely off-guard and barreling her into the deepest part of the river.

“Arrghhh! _You_!” Dripping, Adela rose from the water, full of scorn and fury. “I should blast you with cold until you’re frozen in place, all except your… _oh_.” Her voice broke as she took in how hard he was for her, already. 

Watching her remove her clothes never failed to bring him to attention. He was reminded, every time, that he alone had the joy of seeing her this way, at her most beautiful and vulnerable.

Cullen watched Adela’s throat move as she swallowed, transfixed. “I was _going_ to say,” she began again, “that I should render you immobile and torture you mercilessly.”

 _Not_ so _vulnerable, perhaps._

“What’s stopping you?” Cullen asked, shifting his voice to the lower register he knew she loved. “I’ll do you one better – don’t waste your energy on ice magic. I’ll hold completely still for you, I swear.”

Her eyes lit up. “No matter what?”

This was a new game, but Cullen felt playful. Not to mention he was aching to have her hands on him. Had she ever looked more beautiful than she did at that moment? 

She was all lean muscle and soft curves, with starlight in her hair and the current tugging at the soft curls between her thighs. She looked like a nature goddess, inviting him to blaspheme. And so, he promised – a thing he never took lightly.

“No matter what,” he swore. “I put myself at your mercy.”

“Oh,” she purred, arching one eyebrow, “You’ll find very little of that after half-drowning me.”

With that, she used her slight weight to bear him down onto a large, gently-angled boulder near the edge of the stream. River water dripped from both their scalps, trickling along their bodies and leaving silvery trails of reflected moonlight.

“Would you raise your hands above your head, please, Commander?” Adela asked sweetly. “You won’t be needing them for quite some time.”

“Oh, and we need one more thing!” Her voice moved with her as she crossed to the far bank and drew the decorative sash of her armor from the branch where she’d left it. Wading back to Cullen’s side, she laid it across his eyes.

“Adela, what in Andraste’s name?” He started to sit up – this was more than he’d bargained for.

“Cullen, you _promised_.”

“But we’re in the middle of the woods! I can’t be blind here, what if someone comes upon us?”

“If anything happens – which it _won’t_ – you simply tear off the sash. Easy.” Her voice traveled closer and came to rest beside his ear, warm breath tickling as she whispered in a sultry tone, “Trust me. I am going to make this _very_ worth your while.”

With that, her fingers quickly tied a clever knot, and he was left spread eagle on the rock. The Commander of the Inquisition, brought to this – completely exposed, unable to see, stubbornly unwilling to move… and desperate for her touch.

____________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Adela stepped back into deeper water to admire her handiwork. Cullen’s strong body was stretched wide, his feet spread to form a sturdy base in the creek bed and his hands resting in a patch of moss near the top of the boulder. The effect of the deep blue slash of fabric against his tanned, tense jawline took her breath away.

As she stared, his muscles began to twitch in anticipation. First in his chest, then in his abdomen, then… lower.

She finally took pity. Moving oh-so-slowly, so no ripples would give her away, she approached him in complete silence. Just as he begged, “Adi, _please_ ,” she bent and trapped the head of his cock between her lips.

“M-m- _maker_!” he cried out, as her hot mouth enveloped him. She knelt between his legs then, the warm water flowing around her waist as she placed one hand on his thigh to steady herself.

Creators, was he _shaking_ with need? They should have gone on vacation months ago.

Adela continued suckling him as she wrapped her fingers tight around his length. Not too fast, not too slow… she relished the slide of velvety skin over rock-hard shaft as she pumped him, mercilessly swirling her tongue over his tip. She tasted the saltiness of his pre-cum there, and smiled with him still in her mouth.

She felt Cullen’s hands in her hair then, and instantly went still. He groaned as she dragged her mouth off his cock and commanded, “Put. Them. _Back_. If you move your hands again, or so much as shift your hips, I’m going to stop for good.”

“I _have_ to move, Adi! You feel too damn good to stay still.” Cullen’s voice was dark, on edge. He wasn’t used to losing control.

“You tried to drown your Inquisitor,” Adela scolded gleefully, “and _this_ is the punishment. But even though you can’t move, you could be a bit louder, if you want… I'm sure no one from camp can hear us over the rapids.”

"You'd like that, wouldn't you?" With an agonized groan, Cullen slowly lifted his arms back above his head and turned one cheek to press it against the smooth stone. Adela imagined it was his way of readying himself for the almost-impossible task ahead.

She returned her attentions to his cock, which had gone nearly purple while they talked. This time, she used the tip of one finger to trace the lightest possible line from his balls up the seam to his head. A strangled noised escaped Cullen’s tightly clenched lips and his stomach muscles trembled violently. 

Over the next several minutes, she settled into a rhythm of pumping him slowly, then faster and faster, finally taking him deep into her throat and swallowing around him. Next, she’d leave him to twitch helplessly against his stomach as she used her teeth on his neck or languidly sucked his thumb.

Each time she repeated the cycle, she noticed his toes curling tighter, his hands scrabbling more frantically to get a hold in the moss. By the third pass, the veins of his neck stood out and his entire chest was flushed as he suffered in near-silence. 

He was so proud, her lion. He’d let her unmake him under the wide, moonlit sky, but refuse to give her the satisfaction of hearing how desperately good it felt. She smiled wickedly. She knew how to make him surrender.

Between the water and her own juices, her thighs glistened as she climbed up the slope of the rock to straddle him. When she heard his breath catch in anticipation, she opened herself with her fingers and sheathed him to the hilt in one smooth thrust. An agonized cry _ripped_ from Cullen’s throat. 

After that, there was no silencing him. His noises of pleasure were the sweetest sounds she’d ever heard.

Adela lifted his right hand from the stone and placed it to her sopping hair, just above the place where they were joined. Cullen moaned in relief at being able to do _something_ , and immediately began to circle his thumb over the little nub hidden there. 

It was Adela’s turn to breathe quickly, levering her torso down over Cullen’s taut body until she’d pinned his left hand to the rock. 

Grinning, she whispered, “I’ll allow you to move your right hand and your mouth. _Nothing else_.” Then she teased one of her nipples against his panting lips, and keened as his tongue found her.

She began to roll her hips so the momentum carried her away to the very tip of him, then _thrust_ back against him with a force that made them both cry out. She continued, faster than she’d meant to... she was losing her edge now – oh, Creators – she was just so _taken_ by the sight of him. 

Every line of his body was stiff with repressed energy; his back arced with barely-maintained control… he was holding still because she’d _asked_ , even though he was clearly in agony. 

His devotion shattered her resolve to be cruel.

“Cullen, I have to see you, I _have_ to…” she whimpered desperately as she tugged away the makeshift blindfold.

He was instantly was on his feet, bearing her weight up into the air and twisting, bringing her to rest with her back against the smooth rock. 

“You changed the rules? Then I’m in control now, temptress.” He glared at her, but his smirk was sheer, satisfied triumph. Before she could respond, he’d moved her again, throwing both her legs over his shoulders and pressing his cock right to the opening of her aching cunt.

“Beg me to take you.” His face was carved marble in the moonlight, perfect and severe. “Tell me how much you want me inside you, _now_.”

Adela drew a shuddering breath and told the truth. “Cullen, I’ll do anything. _Please_.”

He surged forward, and her lower back left the stone as she was propelled upward by the sheer force of his lust. His cock hit her inner wall, and she _screamed_ … but he’d known she would, and his hand was already covering her mouth. No one would come to interrupt them.

Slowly, now, exquisitely slowly, he dragged his length out of her until she gaped at him, squirming beneath the steel trap of his hand over her lips. She could see his eyes gleam with pleasure at her wanton abandon. 

_Two can play this game of control_ , he seemed to ask, _but who can play it better?_

A challenge. She bit, hard, into the meat between his thumb and forefinger.

“Fuck, woman!” Cullen bit the words off, lowered his head to her breasts, and began to leave a series of love marks that would last for days as his hips rutted against her. Her legs shook atop his powerful shoulders, and when his thumb found her clit again, she _whined_ with need.

They quickly reached the point of no return. Adela, unable to stand his teeth on her sensitive flesh a moment longer, wrenched his face up to hers and kissed him wildly. In turn, he thrust his tongue into her mouth, claiming one more part of her as his own. 

They bucked together. Adela pressed upward with all her might, wanting to be even closer, even _tighter_. She drew every last inch of him inside her until, with a muffled shout against her collarbone, Cullen spurted his seed deep within.

For a minute, maybe two, they lay tangled on the rock. The steady rush of water was the only sound as their heartbeats slowed and their legs stopped trembling. 

Then Cullen lifted his head from where it was buried in her neck. 

“My turn.”

He stood and adjusted her limp arms and legs into a replica of his former pose. Only then did Adela realize how truly exposed the position was. Anyone could walk by and see her spread out like some profane offering to the Gods, with her well-used cunt and bruised tits pointing at the sky…

Cullen seemed to enjoy it, though. As he knelt between her thighs, he ordered, “Stay still. But no blindfold – I want you to _watch_.”

He flattened his tongue against her and dragged it upward, agonizingly slow. He never took his narrowed amber eyes from her wide green ones. 

After a few more measured passes, when she knew he could feel her legs clenching against tremors, he used the velvet tip of his tongue to lap more swiftly at her clit.

Adela was completely overwhelmed. She wanted to move – _had_ to move – each second was a new struggle as she _forced_ her hips not to thrust against his face. She wanted to turn her head, as well, to hide her red face and swollen mouth, but she also wanted him to see her this way.

His. _Completely_ his.

She’d already been leaking a constant stream of whines and breathy moans, but when he wrapped his lips around her pearl and _sucked_ , an anguished, “Cullen, _please_ , oh C-creators, I _can’t_ ….” tore from her throat and then dissolved into wordless gasps.

And then he, too, relented – in his way. He lowered his eyes and finally committed to a steady rhythm, allowing her climb higher and higher. It was _excruciating_ not to move at all, but her instinct had been right – it made the sensations even more intense. His golden head was nestled between her thighs, and she was coming closer, closer, _fuck_ …

When Cullen lifted his gaze again, his eyes were soft. Seeing that loving, familiar expression atop that wicked mouth hurled Adela over the edge. As she climaxed, he pushed one long finger inside her and let her ride it as she wailed like a woman possessed.

The whole time, his mouth stayed with her bucking hips, drawing out the orgasm until it reached an unbearable peak and she had to thrust him away by the shoulders. At that, he clambered up onto the stone and pulled her still-quaking body to his.

It was a long time before either of them moved. Cullen seemed fascinated by lazily tracing the lines where the sun-kissed skin of Adela’s arms and upper neck lightened to a milky paleness.

“I like these lines,” he affirmed, his voice gentle now. “They remind me you’ve got Harritt’s good armor to protect you.”

“Yes,” Adela managed, “but don’t ask me to put it back on now.”

Cullen chuckled. “No. For now, I want – in this order – our tent and warm blankets, your naked body close to mine, and the story you owe me.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> See? Smut. Cullen and I both keep our promises.


	4. Everything You Touch Becomes Better

“His name was Tristan.” Adela spoke quietly, hoping her words would lull Cullen into a peaceful, dreamless sleep. She’d gotten rather good at doing that over the last year, and took pride in how the dark circles under his eyes had lessened. “Tristan was First to the Keeper of Clan Ghilain.”

“As you were to Keeper Lindel?” Cullen questioned. He looked drowsily up at her from where his head lay in her lap.

“Exactly,” she answered. “I met him at my second clan gathering. He was likely there for my first, as well, but I was so young I don’t remember that trip. The second time, I was fourteen, and he was a grown man.”

“How old _was_ he?” Cullen tensed a bit, protective as always, and Adela laughed under her breath.

“Calm yourself, jealous warrior. He was only seventeen, but that’s close enough to adulthood among the People. He’d already received his vallaslin, and I remember thinking they looked dark and proud against his skin.”

“I hope it won’t bother you to know you weren’t the first man to charm me with a dance? Though, this was no Winter Palace. On the first night of the Arlathvenn, we all gathered around the central bonfire to watched the young men dance.”

“Their movements told a tale of great hunters from across the Clans who once joined together to track a fearsome beast. As a mage, Tristan played the part of the monster – funny how much more than bothers me now than it did then.”

“Anyway, in the tale, the beast was eventually vanquished after a long and brutal hunt. Its darkness was driven from the land, and so Tristan’s part was to slink away, bitterly, through a gap in the circle of watchers. But, as he went, he broke character just long enough to flash me the _cockiest_ grin.”

“That’s all it took – that smile ignited ten days of desperate infatuation. He sought me out the next morning, and we spent all our free hours exploring the woods around the camp. The chosen meeting spot was new to us both, and we climbed trees, tried to name birds we’d never seen, did _elfy_ things, as Sera would say.”

“And did you love him, emma lath?” Cullen murmured. His eyes were closed – a bit too deliberately – and Adela guessed he didn’t want her to see the jealousy they held. His choice of an elvish endearment was no accident, either.

“I did not, ma vhenan,” she soothed. “But I thought I did, at the time. So many things seem more important than they really are when one is fourteen. Don’t I recall you planning wedding vows the very day you met your Alice?”

Cullen smiled and drew one of her hands to his mouth, pressing soft lips against her knuckles. “Fair enough, Adi. Tell me more.”

“The second night of the gathering, we danced together. It must have been crowded, but I don’t remember seeing anyone else around the fire. I was _so_ caught up in him. On the third night, he gave me my first kiss, and over the following nights, he gave me many more. But it ended there, on the tenth day.”

“When our aravels departed, I remember sobbing to Keeper Lindel to leave me behind. I’d convinced myself I’d rather trail Tristan’s clan through the woods, give up my place of honor and be a shadow, then not see him again for ten years.”

“Of course, my Keeper had seen young heartbreak before. He knew just what to do. I’d recently started working with a loom, and so he bid me weave the tale of Tristan and myself into a winter blanket.”

“I made it elaborate and intricate - as he knew I would - and poured all my sadness into the work. By the time the blanket was finished, a month had passed. We were miles beyond miles away from Clan Ghilain, and my heart was calm.”

Cullen’s eyes were still closed, but he looked genuinely relaxed this time when Adela glanced down. She gently ran her fingers lovingly through his still-damp curls.

“So then… what kind of book was this Tristan, in the end?”

“Oh,” she said, “I'm not sure. I think the best comparison would be some kind of almanac. It’s a useful memory to go back to… a teaching memory, one that reminds me to choose where I place my attention rather than giving it freely to the first thing that catches my eye. It was a vital lesson for someone meant to be a Keeper, though I came by it in an unusual way.”

She thought a beat longer.

“It taught me something about healing, as well, and the power of time to ease all aches. Although, well… I will admit… it was an almanac with a very _striking_ cover.”

Cullen breathed a sleepy chuckle and loosed his hair from her hands. Gracefully raising himself on one forearm, he let his free fingertips ghost over the lines of her blood writing.

“These honor June, your god of craft, do they not?”

“Yes.” She was pleased he'd remembered. “Maybe the markings of Sylaise would have been more fitting for a budding weaver, but I chose to honor June because I was always drawn to see new uses in things.”

“It sometimes angered Keeper Lindel, the way I always wanted to twist tradition – _just a little_ – for the sake of what seemed more sensible to me.”

“June fits you,” Cullen replied. “I’m no expert on your gods, but I know he was a maker at the core. And you, Adela, you _make_ things. Everything you touch becomes better.”

She started to interrupt him – he was giving her far too much credit, as always – but he placed a gentle finger to her lips.

“It’s true. You know I’m not like our favorite dwarf, prone to tall tales. You were the one who forged this Inquisition into a weapon strong enough to endure the battles it's had to face. And yes, you had help. But you've never really understood that, without you at the center, the rest of us would have been lost." 

"Adela. _I_ would have been lost.”

Cullen rested his forehead against hers, then, and his voice grew so soft she could barely make out the fervent words.

“It was you alone, Adi, who reminded me of the person I want to be. I spent so many years seeing myself as nothing more than a tool for a hard job… not even the _right_ tool, mind you, but one that had no other purpose than to be used toward some good end until it broke in service.”

“And then you came, and I… I wanted to be a whole person again. Because I wanted to be worthy of _you_.”

He took a shuddering breath, and Adela could just see the wetness that glimmered in his eyes, but did not spill.

“Whatever you love about the man I am today, I swear you see it there because of you. You helped me remember a better way to live. You built trust with me, a bond I could _finally_ rely on after years of ugliness and betrayal.”

“This freedom you've given me find myself again is the most precious gift I can imagine, and you crafted it all from _your good heart_.”

Adela was crying then, even as Cullen held back his tears. She’d always known what she meant to him – he made sure of it, every day – but he’d never put these particular thoughts into words before. 

It was overwhelming – and wonderful – how much he needed her. Mostly because she felt the exact same way about him.

She started to tell him so, but he silenced her with a deep, lingering kiss. When he lifted his head from hers, she was breathless, and he used the momentary quiet to whisper in her ear. 

“Let’s sleep now, Adi. It will keep until tomorrow. We have time, at last – all the time in the world."

When he pulled her down onto their pile of soft blankets, when he pressed his body so close she could feel his pulse under her skin, she finally believed that was true.


	5. Damn Spies – They Notice Everything

The third day of travel brought rain. With a desert wasteland in their future, the scouts voted to ride through the downpour and were soon happily drenched.

Adela was in high spirits and visited with each soldier as they rode. Cullen watched, smiling quietly to himself as rain dripped from the tips of his wet curls. His love's commitment to knowing these men and women was the thing that had made him finally wake up and really _look_ at her all those months ago in Haven.

____________________________________________________________________________________________________________

She’d been distracting one of his men at the edge of the training grounds, or so he’d thought. He strode over, ready to ask her to leave, when he noticed the green light flowing between her hand and the soldier’s ankle.

“Commander!” blurted the recruit. “I was clumsy… tripped over a root in them last drills… but I can get back to it quick as anything...” The young man started to stand, but Cullen clapped a hand on his shoulder and kept him seated.

“It’s all right… What is your name again?”

“This is Benjen.” Adela spoke without looking up, intently focused on her healing magic. The green energy she produced seemed an extension of the mark on her hand, and for the first time Cullen found himself staring openly at it. 

The mark crossed her small palm like a gash formed from energy instead of blood. It started on the fleshy mound under her thumb and traveled diagonally, ending just beneath her smallest finger. Her hands… they were so delicate… he wondered if the mark pained her. And then he realized she was looking at him, now, head tilted slightly to one side in curiosity. _Maker’s breath_.

Unvoiced laughter sparkled in her eyes - _Are they green too? They are._ \- as she stood and offered a hand to pull Benjen to his feet.

“Th-thank you for helping me, Herald,” stuttered the recruit, testing his ankle and gaping in awe when it easily held his weight. “I ain’t been healed by magic before.”

“Thank _you_ for fighting with the Inquisition, Benjen. It was a pleasure to meet you.”

When the man bowed and hurried off, Cullen found himself unexpectedly lost for words. “Err… thank you. That was a kindness. You know we have healers, though, you don’t have to...”

“It was my pleasure, Commander. I enjoy meeting our troops. I wouldn’t normally interrupt your training, but I saw him fall, and I thought this would be quicker than fetching one of the other healers.” 

“Yes, quite. Well… thank you, again.”

She nodded slightly before pivoting on one heel to leave. Cullen found himself speaking again, entirely unplanned, just so she wouldn’t go _quite_ so soon.

“You can stop by anytime, you know. To observe, that is. The troops. Many of them rallied here for you, after all.”

“I’d like that,” she murmured, and met his eyes again. 

_How did I not notice the green before? Her healing spell, her mark, her_ eyes _… looking at her is like being in a lush forest._

Once again, she tactfully filled his distracted silence. “Perhaps I’ll see you here tomorrow, Commander.”

When she left, he _forced_ himself not to watch her walk away.

____________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Now, as then, she remembered individual names more often than seemed possible. Cullen sometimes overheard her asking after children, spouses, even beloved pets.

“And how is Applesauce?” was the example that floated to his ears as he watched her riding alongside Lleweyn, the youngest member of their party.

“Oh, she’s wonderful,” the scout replied earnestly. “My little girl spends every waking second with that nug – _sleeps_ with it too, can you believe my wife allows it in the bed?!”

“I think it’s done a world of good to stop Lily missing me so much. I thank Lady Nightingale every time I see her – she’s starting to give me the stink-eye when I do – but it hardly seems enough.”

“It’s enough.” Adela laughed kindly. “Leliana told me herself how much pleasure she gets from filling the world with those little creatures. I should thank _you_ for taking one off our hands so Skyhold doesn’t become overrun!”

A few moments later, she ended the chat and slowed her horse to fall back beside Cullen’s black Rook.

“Made your way through all the troops again, have you?” he asked. His smile grew when she reposted, “Yes, exactly as I know you’ll do after lunch!”

That was her doing, as well.

____________________________________________________________________________________________________________

That night, the group made camp some miles west of Lake Celestine. Cullen and Adela ate around the main fire with the scouts, then lingered to trade stories with them. Cullen finished his favorite tale just as the sun slipped below the tree line. 

“He saluted, turned on his heel, and marched out like he was in full armor.”

The scouts laughed generously, and Adela knew it was half because the story was a good one, and half because they liked seeing their commander so at ease. 

What she didn’t know was that the troops had made a spontaneous pact to ensure she and Cullen both had full cups at all times throughout the meal. Their espionage training let them manage this so deftly that Adela never caught on just how much she was drinking.

When she moved to stand, she found herself listing dramatically to one side. Cullen threw out his arms and pulled her safely into his lap, which earned a rousing cheer from the scouts.

“That’s right, Commander! Guard the Inquisitor!”

Adela flushed bright pink, and saw Cullen grinning foolishly at her as she struggled for composure. 

“I am,” she began, “ _perfectly_ capable of standing on my own. Perhaps you all forget, but I have taken down high dragons.” She pushed herself up from her seat on Cullen’s hard thighs and instantly regretted the decision. Swaying, she tried to steady herself with an inconspicuous hand on her lover’s shoulder.

“Good thing there’s no dragon here _now_ , Your Worship,” quipped Brenna, “I worry you’d see three instead of one, and not know where to aim those lightning bolts of yours.”

 _Damn spies. They notice_ everything.

“You, Scout Brenna, have been spending – *hiccup* – _far_ too much time with Krem. Watch out, or I’ll have Bull give you a terrible nickname, too.”

She needed an escape before she lost this battle of jibes. If there was one person she could count on to rescue her, it was the man whose shoulder she currently held in a balance-preserving death grip. 

“Cullen,” Adela said imperiously, “Please escort me to our tent, if you would be so kind.”

Her champion rose, much steadier than she was – though his face was still plastered with that stupid, charming smirk – and then, with no warning, he _swept_ her up into his arms.

Adela hit his chest with a loose fist. “Cullen! What are you…”

“I’m escorting you to bed, my lady.” His voice was low enough that even the sharp-eared scouts couldn’t overhear. “You are in a rare state, and I fully intend to take advantage.”

Cullen turned to the group and proclaimed, “Until tomorrow, soldiers. Enjoy the last night without sand in your tents.”

Then he carefully – so carefully, Adela could _feel_ the control in his steps, which meant he was more inebriated than he’d let on – carried her safely back to their secluded tent.


End file.
